Bloody Interesting
by LuxaLucifer
Summary: The Prime Minister of Muggles was taking a short stroll through the park, fuming over politics, when he came across a worn, shabbily dressed wizard sleeping in the grass. It was only natural to be curious. He was, after all, a politician.


Disclaimer- J.K. Rowling ruefully owns it.

I don't really know what happened here. It started as a whim and then turned into a campaign for werewolf rights...eh. Takes place around Goblet of Fire.

Enjoy! :)

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The Prime Minister was taking a walk in a secluded park on the opposite side of the city from where he worked when he ran across a man sleeping in the grass. a book propped open on his chest. He stopped, unsure what to do. Was the man homeless? His clothes, while extremely shabby, were well taken care of, and his gray-streaked brown hair was cleanly cut, so the Prime Minister decided the courteous thing to do would be to wake the man up. It was getting late, after all. The sun was beginning to set and the park would be closing soon.

He nudged the man's battered loafers with a polished shoe, hoping the man was a light sleeper. When he didn't respond, he cleared his throat and nudged harder. It took three more nudges before the man finally woke up.

The man looked up at the Prime Minister and then back at himself before saying, "It seems I've gotten myself in a rather foolish predicament."

"Excuse me?" said the Prime Minister.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you not the Muggle Prime Minister?"

The Prime Minister swallowed. Muggle. The only people who used the word Muggle were wizards, wizards like Cornelius Fudge, wizards who turned teacups into gerbils. He took a step away from the man, who only smiled at him.

"Thank you for waking me from my nap. It seems that my fatigue has caught up with me, and I fell asleep while reading my book."

The man sat up, and the Prime Minister realized that the man's claims of tiredness weren't unfounded- he had deep bags under his eyes to match the lines on his face, though he was still relatively young.

He stuck out his hand, still friendly, and the Prime Minister had to admit that he was curious to see what wizards other than Fudge were like. Were they just like normal people, with normal thoughts and feelings? Or were they all a sort of clone, and thought the same way? An image came unbidden to his mind of an army of metal robot Fudge clones, which he quickly dismissed for the sake of his own sanity.

"Hello, Prime Minister," said the man. "I'm Remus Lupin."

"Remus? That's an unusual name."

Lupin chuckled. "The wizarding community is filled with ridiculous names, I promise. People named after constellations, rodents, legends, plants, all sorts. Mine turned out to be rather ironic in the end, considering..." The man's eyes flicked upwards towards the Prime Minister, who stared at him in a state of benign confusion. "...never mind. I wouldn't want to confuse you."

The Prime Minister abandoned all caution and sat down next to Lupin on the grass, ignoring the potential threat of grass stains.

"So, Prime Minister, you look worried. Important matters of state, or just personal issues?"

The Prime Minister laughed. "For once, things in Great Britain are going okay, although don't tell the voters I said that. You're not a voter, are you?"

Lupin smirked. "Not recently. I have been in the past."

"Oh, really?" remarked the Prime Minister, surprised. "I got the feeling from the Other- from Minister Fudge that wizards don't pay much attention to the goings-on of our world."

"Most don't. I've lived among you for long periods of time, however," replied Lupin, glancing down at his worn cardigan and trousers. "Which is why I'm not frightening small children in my wizards' robes."

"...Wizards robes..." sighed the Prime Minister. "It seems so unreal...I'm curious, Mr Lupin. What kind of life do wizards lead? What kinds of jobs do you have?"

"All sorts. Ministry jobs are common enough, as they encompass so much, from regulating dragons to being an Auror- a sort of wizard police force- to organizing Quidditch tournaments. That's our biggest sport. We, well..." Lupin shot him a quick grin. It looked a bit out of place on his tired face. "It's on broomstick. Wizards lead normal lives, really. They're the same as Muggles in the end."

The Prime Minister tried to process that information, but as he didn't want to look slow, he asked politely, "What do you do?"

Lupin turned ever-so-slightly red. "I'm unemployed. I was a teacher for a bit, but...how do I explain it to a Muggle?"

The Prime Minister resented being talked down to, so he said, more hotly than he would have wished, "I'm sure I'll understand."

Lupin said quickly, "Oh, no, I wasn't inferring anything about your intelligence. It's only that it's a bit embarrassing for me. Suffice to say that I'm chronically ill, and it makes me...fairly unemployable."

"I am sorry about that, Mr. Lupin. You seem a decent bloke. If you have basic qualifications, I may be able to get you a part-time job in my office, if you wish..."

Lupin met his eyes, and the Prime Minister was unprepared for the steel in them. "That is very kind of you, but I'm afraid as far as Muggle qualifications go, I have none. I graduated from a wizarding school, and as such, it seems to your society that I have nothing more than a grade school education. It puts me in a rather terrible position, and I'd prefer not to talk about it. But how about you, Mr. Minister? You were looking awful gloomy when you woke me from my nap."

The Prime Minister noted vaguely that the sun had almost set. "My advisors have been telling me that I need to get myself a wife and have a few children or I may get a vote of no confidence soon. Apparently the population finds itself in need of a leader with a relatable family, or some similar rot."

"You problems are rather larger than mine, wouldn't you say?" said Lupin, smiling slightly. "I'm sorry to hear it. If I could charm your advisors into reason, I would."

"Could I see it?" asked the Prime Minister suddenly and abruptly changing the subject.

Lupin raised an eyebrow. "Why, Mr. Prime Minister, I don't normally let men take a look before at least the third date. What do you take me for? _Anyone _could be watching..."

Beet red, the Prime Minister stammered, "No, I meant your wand..."

The eyebrow arched further. "But Minister, we're in plain sight, and I don't know if you should put your hand there..."

"Your wizard's wand!"

The eyebrow reverted to its original position. "Oh, yes, of course. Why didn't you just ask me that in the first place?"

Lupin reached into the pocket of the shirt under his cardigan and pulled out a long, brown stick with a knob at the end. Before Lupin handed it to him, he did a swish-flick maneuver with his hand and a leaf in front of them rose a few feet in the air before dropping down again.

"Seeing as there's no one around," said Lupin, keeping a straight face.

As the Prime Minister examined the wand, Lupin said thoughtfully, "You know, you're in a very special position, Mr. Minister. You and the other Prime Ministers are probably the only Muggles in Great Britain to know about magic that aren't closely related to a witch or wizard. You have none of the constant exposure to wizards but are forced to live with knowledge of their existence. That must be interesting."

"Interesting," snorted the Prime Minister, handing the wand back to Lupin. "Interesting indeed...bloody frightening, it is. What about you, living around Muggles? How does that feel?"

There was a long pause. "Sometimes I wish I never even heard of magic at all," said Lupin so softly that the Prime Minister understood that those words were not meant for him. He didn't respond.

There was silence before Lupin added, louder, "Normal, mostly. You have to be careful, bloody careful. It's so easy to unlock a door by magic, but in public you have to remember to take out the key and lock it back up again...little things are usually the most obnoxious."

"It sounds like people in the wizarding world must live in bliss, with all this magic," said the Prime Minister. "You don't have to do loads of manual labor."

"Not really," said Lupin wryly. "At least, not for me. Our society is as prejudiced and messed up as yours, only in different ways."

The Prime Minister had been trained for a lifetime to be attune to social and economical issues, especially when speaking to a potential voter, and he picked up the trace of bitterness hidden in Lupin's voice.

"If you don't mind me asking, what kind of prejudices do you have?" asked the Prime Minister, ever eager to looked well-informed.

"Where to start?" chuckled Lupin, picking apart a blade of grass absent-mindedly. "Most often it's persecution against Muggle-borns- witches or wizards born into Muggle families. Then there's persecution against house-elves...oh, how do you describe them...they're a sort of small, gray creature that takes care of wizards, like servants except you don't have to pay them. Not to mention prejudice against centaurs, mermaids, giants, and...werewolves."

"You really have all these different creatures? You're not just pulling my leg?" asked the Prime Minister suspiciously.

"Yes, we do. Not all of them are friendly, and can you blame them? Wizards don't exactly treat them well."

"I'd like to say, here in Britain, we don't-"

Lupin stopped him with a wave of his hand. "Mr. Minister, what you're about to spout off is an election speech, and I don't want one of those. Your society has its low points, and the only reason I'm not asking about what they are is because I'm already rather well acquainted with them."

"Fair point," conceded the Minister, deciding to return to a more important subject. "You even have mermaids? And werewolves?"

"Well, I can't show you proof that we have mermaids off-hand, but I can show you proof of werewolves," said Lupin with a tight smile. "GIve me a moment- I think I've got in around here somewhere..."

Lupin began digging around in the pockets of his trousers, eventually pulling out a small business-type card, brushing crumbs off it. "You're lucky I've got it with me today. I'm technically supposed to carry it at all times, but I never do..."

The Prime Minister tentatively took the card and examined it. It read, in bright red ink, "Issued by the Ministry of Magic for Identification Purposes in case of Emergency, only to be used by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, stating the one Remus John Lupin is a Registered Lycanthrope."

The Prime Minister, to avoid looking at Lupin right away, handed the card back to him.

"So you're...you're a werewolf?"

"I'm afraid so. Not by choice, I promise. I don't normally tell people, as I don't generally get a positive response, but you're a Muggle so I thought it might be a little different. Scared?"

The Prime Minister examined Lupin but only saw the same tired, lined face smiling heavily at him wearing the same darned, patched cardigan and trousers. He didn't see any trace of a wolf or beast in him, and remembered what Lupin had said about prejudices. This man had obviously not have a good time of it.

"Not really," admitted the Prime Minister, feeling as though he should be somehow.

Lupin looked thoughtful. "Any particular feelings at all?"

"I'm wondering if there are a lot of werewolves running around Britain during the full moon, that's all."

"Yes and no," replied Lupin easily. "Not me, certainly."

"Is that so?"

"There's this potion that helps, I guess you would say. With it, I'm perfectly safe."

The Prime Minister nodded slowly. "And mermaids? If I met them on the street would I be able to tell what they were?"

Lupin laughed. "I should hope so! They're terrifyingly ugly, and if you hadn't noticed, they're _mermaids_, so they don't exactly just walk down the street."

The Prime Minister blushed. "Yes, of course, I knew that."

They lapsed into silence, and it was some time before Lupin said, "I'm glad I met you today, Mr. Minister. I've been rather...anxious...lately, and it's easy to forget people like you have big problems too."

"Muggles?" asked the Prime Minister wryly.

"No," answered Lupin, his voice equally sarcastic. "Prime Ministers. It's quite easy to pretend that the people who make _your_ life difficult lead easy lives, but that's not always true. And no, I'm not talking about you. More like my own Minister."

"Fudge? Is he...is he a good Minister?"

Lupin shrugged. "I usually don't feel one way or he other about him. Most of the time government feels very far away, regardless of whether or not you're a wizard. But Fudge just let a law pass that's going to make it difficult, very difficult, for people like me, so right now I'm not feeling too friendly with him."

The Prime Minister filed away the contorted expression on Lupin's face and made himself a promise that he would go to work the next day resolved to find his unhappiest voters and see what he could do to improve their lives, because even if he couldn't do anything for Lupin he could do something for someone in his position. He may have no jurisdiction over werewolves, but that didn't stop him from exercising his power over his own people.

Lupin shot him a glance out of his peripheral vision. "Do you think you're a good Prime Minister?"

"Do you think you're a good teacher?" the Prime Minister shot back, unwilling to answer.

Lupin flinched and looked away, and the Prime Minister regretted bringing it up.

"Yes," said Lupin, not disguising the bitterness in his voice. "Yes, I am. I am a very good teacher."

"I think I am a decent Prime Minister," he replied honestly. "But I could be better."

"There's always room for improvement," said Lupin, smirking. "It's getting late. Won't your retinue of bodyguards be wondering where you are?"

"Ah, yes, they're probably searching for me as it is. When I get back it'll be all 'for the security of Great Britain' and 'you could have been assassinated'," huffed the Prime Minister.

Lupin laughed, lacing his fingers behind his head.

"What about you?" asked the Prime Minister.

"What about me?"

The Prime Minister hesitated, but Lupin nodded at him to continue, so he said, "Who's going to be waiting for you at home?"

"No one."

"Ah."

"Better that than a bunch of bodyguards," said Lupin seriously, meeting his eyes. "I think we'd better part here, Mr. Minister."

"Why?"

'The nation will be worried for you. As for me..." Lupin pulled the Werewolf Identification Card out again. "...I have a curfew."

The horror in that statement threatened to engulf the Prime Minister, so he reached out a hand and helped Lupin up after he stood. They stared at each other for a moment.

"It's been enlightening to meet you, Mr. Lupin," said the Prime Minister.

"Call me Remus."

"Well, Remus, maybe we'll run into each other again."

"I doubt it," said Remus with a quirk of his lips. "It's been very enlightening to meet you too."

Remus looked around to check that no one was hiding in the deepening gloom and shook the Prime Minister's hand.

"Goodbye, Mr. Minister."

"Wait," said the Prime Minister, realizing that Remus was about to go. "My name is-"

But Remus was already gone, disappearing into thin air with a loud crack.

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